


To Thine Own Self

by LoneLunette



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Betrayal, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Its a trip, Loss of Identity, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reader-Insert, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Manga Spoilers, Slow Burn, Survivor Guilt, dense, emotionally dense, no beta we die like men, this is how i cope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-24 11:48:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30071793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoneLunette/pseuds/LoneLunette
Summary: Waking up without memories is confusing enough under normal circumstances.Now imagine waking up without memories, only to discover you're an orphan now, and human like monsters are destroying everything you've ever known, holding your entire life captive behind abandoned walls.If every experience, every precious thought you've ever had is torn away, are you still the same person you once were?
Relationships: Jean Kirstein/Reader, Mina Carolina & Reader, Sasha Blouse & Reader
Comments: 12
Kudos: 25





	1. A Life Forgotten

_How much will we let our past experiences define us?  
Are they the foundation for our drive, our ambition?  
The light in the tunnel, or the demons in the night?  
Is our memory our greatest defense,  
Or our greatest weakness?_  
\-------

It’s quiet here.

Too quiet.

“.../n”

“....y/n…”

“....(Y/N)!”

You wake with a start, face down on the floor. Your head pounds in a steady rhythm, and your eyelids are weighed down, glued shut by some foreign substance. You’re left completely in the dark. The ringing in your ears begins to die down, as you wipe frantically at your face, a gritty substance sanding your eyelids as you wince. Once enough of it comes off, you pull back your hands, opening your eyes to see them covered in dried blood particles.

You look around at the room you’re in, dust motes swirling in the light from the hole in the ceiling. No sooner do you take a step, than the floor begins to shake, the last of the ceiling caving in as you scream, running into the hallway as the room fills with rubble.

You push up against the wall, panting as your head thrums. Something is wrong. The room isn’t the only place that's been wrecked, the house itself is in the throes of collapse. Debris litters the hardwood floor, rocks scattered every couple of steps. An incessant pounding is the undercurrent of the chaos outside, shouts heralding an apocalypse. 

Every nerve in your body is screaming, danger, and you decide to listen. You look around for anything to take with you, but everything is either covered in dust or crushed by the fallen structural beams. Shooting one last glance back at the building, you run out to investigate, your stride cut short as you trip in your haste over a fallen beam.

Your knees scream, as beads of blood form on your skin. You groan, pushing yourself up off the floor, when your hand makes contact with something other than the floor. A skirt peeks out from under the wood, legs motionless as the fabric is stained red by the pool of blood on the floor. Your breath catches in your throat, eyes stinging. This is your house, so that has to be...

“...Mom?” The world falls away as you pull at the wood, so desperate to free the woman that you ignore her blatant fatality. The beam creaks off the floor, as you shoulder the weight, but it isn’t enough. It slams back onto the floor, impossible to lift completely unless someone helps you lift the right side. You pound your fists in silent frustration, a staccato beat thrumming in your head. Your fists grow weaker, and you slump against the wood, grabbing the fabric of her skirt, hoping for some comfort in the confusion....but there’s nothing. Just as you’re about to resign to laying here, and let the worst pass, a firm hand jerks you upright. An older woman grabs your arm as she drags you away. “You have to help me,” you plead, pulling at her sleeve, “My mom, she’s-”

“She’s gone!” the woman shouts, “We have to go, now!” You stand shakily, your vision obscured as blood drips from the gaping wound on your forehead into your eyes, no doubt reopened with the strain of lifting the beam. You rub it off as you blindly follow the woman, not looking back in your haste to get away from…. What were you trying to get away from?

“What’s happening?” you ask, and you twist in her grasp, determined to find the source of the distress. The woman pulls you sharply, and your head snaps forward before you can catch a glimpse. “It's better if you don’t see them.” The pain in her voice is palpable, as her grip tightens around your hand. She keeps her face forward, concealing emotions she doesn’t have time for, and you understand. _She’s lost someone, too._ You decide to listen, as you rush down unfamiliar paths toward a massive stone gate, men in uniforms shepherding the crowd in as quickly as possible. 

What should have been a safe haven, a barrier against this unknown threat, was shrouded in even more chaos. People move as a swarm, clamoring to make their way onto two massive boats as quickly as possible. Everyone shoves, leaving others in the dirt to secure their own passage. Hesitant to join the fray, you dig your feet into the stone, but your guide will have none of that. She drags you with inhuman strength like a sack of flour, shoving you onto the vessel just as the boats prepare to leave the dock. You reach for her hand, desperate for your only companion in the chaos, but she’s pushed back as the bridge is drawn, just another face in the crowd.

You didn’t even know her name. This stranger who saved your life, even when it meant losing her own. You rush to the edge of the boat, screaming in case she could hear. “Thank you! Thank you!!” you shout, eyes stinging and your voice hoarse as you struggled to be heard above the din.You step back, for the first time in the chaos, and gather your thoughts.

_I am...alone._

You look at the faces of the people around you, a mix of blank stares or teary eyes. You draw your gaze back to the place you came from. Now that you can actually stop and think, you realize why everything is so confusing. It isn’t just the invisible threat. You begin to realize what this means, and panic begins to set in. You close your eyes tightly, slumping back against the wall of the boat, as your mind fails to fill in the blank spaces.

_I don’t know these people._

_I don’t know that place._

_Why can’t I remember the woman I called Mom?_

_...Why can’t I remember_ me? 

Your chest begins heaving. The world is immense, and you are an insect. Unknowing and alone in a dangerous environment.

Insignificant.

Something pulls at your sleeve, and you startle, eyes snapping open as your hands move in your defense, when you suddenly stop. 

A baby. You look down at the child, his sniffling face obscured as he sucks his thumb. He reaches for your face, and you watch him numbly.

His stubby hands grab something from your neck. A locket. You gently remove the baby’s fingers from your necklace, as his mother picks him up and takes him away. You look at it in confusion, using your fingernails to pry open the damaged clasp. One side contains a drawing of a younger person. _Thats...me._ You take it out, the back reads, _(Y/n), 10th birthday._ The other side contains a torn drawing, the top row of letters indecipherable, a name forgotten to time. And just under that, what you could only assume was a surname _(L/n) ___

__“(Y/n)....my name is (Y/n) (L/n)”, you whisper to yourself, clutching this piece of information like a precious metal. _My name is (Y/n) (L/n), and somebody loved me._ Your head pounds, and a wisp of a memory floats behind your eyelids. _ _

___Singing. A little box, wrapped in brown paper. Hands wrapping the locket around your neck._ _ _

__You curl your legs into your chest, clutching the locket in your fist. Asking, no begging, for more answers, just another inch of memory._ _

__Silence._ _

__You open your eyes, looking out at the water, the shining sky betraying the terrifying screams you leave behind. Resolve burns in your chest, as hot as a star. _I won’t let you remain forgotten. I can’t. Whatever it takes, I’ll remember who I was.__ _


	2. Chance Encounter

The first couple of months were difficult. 

You were an orphan, no friends, no family, and more importantly, no memory. It took a week just to learn about the walls, the situation you were living in. To learn of the titans that roamed once on their borders, and now within Wall Maria, holding everything you’d ever known hostage. 

Believing your situation to be curable, you went to seek help with the medics. But the doctors were useless, overwhelmed by the sheer number of injured, that they sent you off with a wave, ignoring the questions about your memories. “They’ll come back someday,” they said, “we don’t have time for this.”

And so, you waited. Working in the fields, surrounded by countless others that had lost their homes, their families. Endless toil under the harsh sun, providing food for the hundreds that migrated into Wall Rose.

The winter was even worse. Digging into frozen ground to salvage seeds trapped under a layer of ice. Your hands were cold, but your arms were strong. Lean muscles you were surprised to possess, made the work easier. _What was I eating as a kid?_

Food was scarce, but as more refugees were sent to reclaim Wall Maria, more resources became available as they failed to come back. You learned of the Survey Corps, your only chance to take back your hometown, and knew that’s where you belonged. So, you took on extra work, spending hours in the fields, building endurance, intent on becoming strong enough to survive. Strong enough to get yourself back.

When it came time to sign up for the military, you were at a loss. _I can’t even fill out half of the form._ Your birthday, your age, your previous address, they were all mysteries. You didn’t know how long ago the picture in the locket had been drawn, so, sneaking a glance at other forms, you wrote an age in the same range, burning it into your memory.

Your birthday?

The day Wall Maria fell.

\----------

The heat is sweltering, beads of sweat collecting under the collar of your shirt. Your choice of a turtleneck is looking very foolish right about now. The belts around your legs felt constricting, for safety, sure, but stifling. You glance down quickly at your jacket, stiff material rubbing against your back. _Did a titan eat the rest of the fabric or something?_ You look forward once again, as the instructor, Keith Sadies, shouted at some of the new recruits that stood out the most. 

He passes by you without a whisper. Maybe he saw that you were on the verge of a heat stroke, and decided to torture some other poor soul. You glance around, at the people you will learn to trust. A terrifying idea, considering the only two people you remembered trusting, ended up dead.

Finally, you were all dismissed, pledging allegiance to the military. You follow the rest of the girls to the dorms, watching as everyone grouped up in their respective rooms, making themselves at home. You catch glimpses of the other recruits, a short blonde and a brunette, a girl with black hair, who you hear someone call, Mikasa. You reach the end of the hallway, a single room left, and walk in, seeing an empty set of bunk beds. A bottom bunk already has a set of clothes spread out on it, so you take the other, throwing yourself onto the stiff mattress as you toss your small bag of belongings beside you. 

Realizing it’s almost dinner time, you begin the laborious task of removing your uniform, the crazy amount of buckles almost infuriating. There’s no way this is efficient when you’re forced to go into battle. After slipping into one of the few outfits you had, you rubbed your back, muscles chafing from the leather belts. You’d get used to it. Hopefully.

You leave before the rest of your roommates come back, hungry after standing around all day. The cafeteria is lit up, windows glowing with a warm light in the summery night. Walking through the threshold, your stomach churns, and you get into the food line. Walking precariously with a tray of bread and soup, you find an empty table by the wall. You wince as you take a seat, the back of your legs still sore. You drink a spoonful of broth, unbothered by the lack of seasoning.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The liquid catches in your throat, and you cough viciously. “Is this your seat? I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” You look up at the voice, an intimidating blonde staring you down. You can’t afford to make enemies, one day you may need their help in battle. “Here, you can have my bread as an apology.” She looks flustered as you shove the roll onto her plate.

“What?” she says, confused.

“Ok, here, let’s start over,” you state, extending your arm, “I’m (Y/n) (L/n).” She awkwardly takes your hand, shaking it firmly.

“A-Annie Leonhart.”

“Again, sorry I took your seat, here,” you get up, taking your tray to another empty table, head pounding as you stare at the wall intently. It’s only your first day, and already you’re doing everything wrong, it would seem. As soon as you sit down you focus on controlling your breathing. A shadow looms over you, and you turn around slowly, squinting to make out the two figures standing behind you, shrouded in light.

“Oh, hi, you’re…” you rack your brain for names, but come up empty, “...Arnold? Sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention earlier..” Both boys look appalled. They’re so tall, they’re probably not used to not being recognized. The lights are making your head hurt even more, and you wait patiently for an answer.

“Reiner, and this is Bertholdt.” the blonde guy says, gesturing to his dark haired friend. Right. “You’re (Y/n), from Shiganshina, right? You were there when it happened?” They both look expectantly at you, eyes shining.

“Oh, yeah, that’s me. But I don’t really have a story, just a concussion and a free boat ride,” you answer nervously, “Not only did I not see any titans, I don’t remember them breaking in at all. So, if you’re looking for a story, I’d talk to that guy Eren over there, he’s been pretty vocal about his experience.” You gesture over to his table, where a group has started forming. You turn around, hoping that would be the end of the conversation, but Reiner and Bertholdt sit at the table, too. 

_Seriously?_ You look around, realizing there’s nowhere else they could sit. You eat quietly, staring intently at your bowl. The silence in your corner is frustrating, and you had wanted to eat alone.

Luckily, Eren starts yelling, and you slip away in the chaos, trying to push through the crowd. At this point, you’re willing to eat outside, even if it meant insect bites. Eventually, everyone begins to disperse, and you’re able to get near the door, moving carefully to avoid any soup from spilling. 

So concentrated, in fact, that you walk right into someone’s back, spilling all the boiling liquid on your shirt. You pull at your shirt frantically, trying to minimize the burns. 

“What the hell?” you spit out, looking up angrily at the person in your way. He remains frozen, looking out past the door. You follow his gaze and realize he’s staring at Eren’s friend...Mikasa? You roll your eyes, at your wit’s end for today. “Hey!” you call out to him again, and instead of apologizing, the guy runs off, following Eren and Mikasa outside.

Instead of chasing after him, you take a deep breath, putting your tray away with little fanfare, and storm off to your room, shoving past other people outside. In the dorms, you strip off your ruined shirt, changing into your pajamas. Two passes under the faucet and the stain still isn’t coming out. You scrub viciously, until finally it’s clean again. _I can count the number of shirts I have on one hand, and this one was my favorite._ Starting with nothing made you a lot more possessive of your few belongings, and so you came to the most logical conclusion.

You were going to make him pay.


	3. The World is Watching

It’s still dark out when you sit up suddenly, veins pumped full of adrenaline. Your roommates are still yawning by the time you’re in full uniform, ready to start the day. “Wow, (Y/n), I can’t believe you woke up before I did,” Sasha says sleepily, rubbing her eyes as she climbs down from the top bed. 

“Yeah, you were up so late ranting about that guy from yesterday, and we still woke up after you,” Mina laughs, as she puts on her boots. The three of you head out to the cafeteria, which looks more like Mina and you running after Sasha, her mouth drooling. You grab a tray, sitting across from them as you all talk about what training might look like today. Your laughter is cut short when the asshole from yesterday walks through the door.

Mina turns around quickly, then nudges Sasha. “Is that the guy you were talking about?” she asks in a hushed tone. You nod curtly, practically seething as you eat another spoonful of breakfast.

“Jeez, (Y/n), you’re giving me scary vibes,” Sasha says with a mouthful of food. “If you’re not going to eat it, can I have your muffin.” You push the bread toward her, staring angrily at the boy from yesterday, his smug face pissing you off even more as minutes went on. Maybe you _could_ allow yourself an enemy..

Mina grabs your arm, trying to distract you as she laughs nervously. “You should eat, you need energy after sleeping so little, and Sasha is practically eating your food with her eyes.” You look down, and she’s right. You shovel the food into your mouth quickly, much to the dismay of Sasha, who appears to melt into the table. You laugh at her antics, and follow your friends to this morning’s training, fingernails digging into your fists.

Once everyone is on the field, Sadies announces what you’ll start off with today. Hand-to-hand combat training. A strange choice, but better than diving headfirst into new equipment.

He begins reading names off of a list, and the pairs of fighters break off into their areas. This is clearly to gauge people’s skills, due to the odd pairings, and you listen intently for your name. 

“(Y/n) (L/n),” he states, “and Jean Kirstein!” 

You walk toward the combat area, not recognizing the name. Footsteps crunch on the dirt behind you, and you turn around.

Maybe there is a God.

Standing two meters across from you is the one person you’ve been waiting to ~~destroy~~ meet.

“You’re….(Y/n)? I’m Jean,” he says unabashedly. You stand expectantly arms crossed, trying to ignore the cocky look on his face, as the last bit of humanity clings to your mind desperately. _If he apologizes right now, I’ll let it go._

“You owe me an apology,” you state, meeting his eyes in disdain.

“For what, we literally just met?”

“Yesterday, you were standing in the middle of the room, and made me spill hot soup on myself,” you clarify, waiting patiently for realization to hit. Jean just looks at you, even more confused.

“Isn’t that your fault then? You should have watched where you were going. I don’t see why I have to apologize,” he says, matching your defensive stance. A part of you realized he was right, but there’s no way in hell you’re admitting that now. You’re in too deep now.

“You were in the way. Too busy ogling some girl, _lover boy_ ,” you spit out viciously, flicking your head to the right, where Mikasa is fighting with Eren. Jean’s face burns red, as he tries to defend himself, tripping over his words. You take this as your cue, diving forward and landing a punch in his gut. Wheezing, he starts fighting back, charging at you drunkenly. You intercept his arm, grabbing his bicep with both hands, transferring his weight to your back and flipping him in one deft move.

_What the hell?_ You glance at your arms, flexing your muscles. You probably had to do a lot of chores around the house since it was only you and your mother. Throw in the hard labor living as a refugee in the fields, and you were a fighting machine waiting to happen.

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to flip your friends?” Jean mutters, brushing his pants off. _Who came up with the brilliant idea of white pants for soldiers?_

“First of all, you’re not my friend,” you answer, “and I don’t know.” He looks at you incredulously.

“You-what?” You get back into your fighting stance, ignoring his words. “What do you mean, you don’t know?” he repeats. You charge again, repeating the move from earlier as Jean slams onto his back once again. “And where the hell did you learn to do that, it’s literally our first day?”

“I said, I don’t know.”

He gets up quickly, annoyed. “If you didn’t want to tell me, you could have just said that,” he mutters, dusting his pants off once again. 

“No,” you say, giving him a hand up. You felt a bit more compassionate after wiping the floor with Jean. “I’m being serious, I don’t remember anything.” He looks up, eyes shining with interest.

“What do you mean, you don’t remember anything?” he asks, curious. You’re surprised at how much you’re talking to someone you wanted to decimate a few minutes ago, but his reactions give you satisfaction, surprised to be interesting to someone.

“That’s why I’m here,” you answer candidly, “it’s my best bet to get Shiganshina back by joining the Scouts.”

“Is everyone from there some kind of main character?” he asks, “First that Jaeger kid, and now you.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” you muse. You sneak up to him, and flip him on his back one last time. “ _I’ll_ consider us even, and _you_ can consider yourself spared.” You walk away, proud to have gotten your revenge. Had you turned back, you would have realized your opponent’s eyes were following your retreating form, determined to learn more about you.

\-----------

You were glad training went well, and your mood reflected that. Mina watched you with laughing eyes, “I guess you got that out of your system, then?” You nodded quickly, laughing as Sasha began picking off of your plate indiscreetly.

“Didn’t Mikasa give you some of her food already?” You ask incredulously.

“Not enough,” she says through a mouthful. You continue to laugh at her antics, but a sense of discomfort tickles the back of your mind, and you look up, feeling like you’re being watched.

You meet Jean’s eyes, and he looks away. _What is going on?_ You keep talking to your friends, who are anticipating this afternoon’s training. You’re distracted once again, and look up. This time Jean and Marco are both looking at you, speaking in hushed tones. Clearly, it was about you, because once they notice you’re staring, they both avert their eyes. _You know what, it’s not my problem._

You shrug it off, following everyone to the next round of training. You stare up at the large contraptions in front of you. According to the instructors, they’re meant to mimic being in ODM gear, and to gauge the cadets’ balance. 

“They’re kind of intimidating,” Mina whispers and you hum in agreement. Everyone forms a line, and you watch as recruit after recruit takes their turn on the… _what is it called?_ It’s pretty much a swing, and you aren’t the only one to think so, you watch in amusement as Sasha swings in her seat.

It would seem some people are naturally gifted at this sort of thing. For all of his talk, Eren, upon being lifted up off the ground, slams right back down, a divot in his forehead. For some reason, this strikes a pang of fear in your heart. Determination doesn’t guarantee results here. So what does that mean for you?

You’re up next, and you walk up to the contraption, waiting as you’re strapped in. You stare straight ahead, waiting to be pulled up. _What’s taking them so long?_ You look down, realizing you’ve been dangling for a solid minute now. 

Light headed with delight, you look around to share your excitement, searching for someone’s eyes, but instead of Mina’s you find yourself looking for Jean’s. Except he’s looking at Mikasa, who unsurprisingly is doing better than the rest of the cadets. For some reason this dampens your mood, and your stomach turns until you startle, looking away from him. Before he catches you staring. _Why do I care what he thinks?_

You turn back to look at Mina, also delighted at your success. Like a good friend, you stand by her as she takes her turn, determined to provide as much emotional support as humanly possible. When she’s done, you both talk excitedly about the experience, the feeling of weightlessness.

“I can only hope using the gear is as easy as that,” Mina laughs, as you both head to the dining hall.

\----------

After dinner, you walk back with her to your room, speaking animatedly about finding your sense of balance, and ignoring the feeling of being watched once again.

The feeling goes away once you’re in the dorms as you’re showering, grateful to clean the grime and sweat of the day off your body. Once you’re satisfied with your skin, burning an angry red after being rubbed raw, you walk back into your shared room, where your friends are talking about their homes as Mina brushes Sasha’s hair. You lay down on your bed, wet hair dripping onto your sheets as you prop your head on your elbows, watching them fondly.

Mina catches your eyes, as she extends the brush. “Do you want to try?” She asks, granting you a smile.

“Oh, uh, are you sure?” You answer, surprised at the invitation. She presses the brush into your open hand, and you take it, “C-can I?” You ask Sasha. She nods shyly, and you take a seat behind her on Mina’s bed. They continue talking about their favorite meals from home, complicated recipes that have been passed down in their families.

_I wish I could talk to them about my home, too._ A couple of brush strokes later, Sasha’s hair is untangled, and you put the brush down on the bed as you zone out, hands moving on their own as you plait her hair. The process makes your head pound, and you grimace as another memory blocks your vision. 

_Small fingers tangled in (h/c) hair. Laughter. Cheek kisses and ‘thank you dear’s’._

A single tear rolls down your cheek, eyes blank. You wipe it away quickly, hoping nobody saw. “Annnddd, done!” you exclaim, grabbing a mirror to show Sasha her new hairstyle.

“You look so pretty,” Mina exclaims, and you agree as she admires the braids from different angles. Mina jokingly pushes Sasha off, clamoring to take a seat,“Me next!” She giggles placing her hands patiently on her lap, and you get to work on new braids. You don’t realize how long, and how loud you’ve all been speaking, until Ymir staggers in.

“Can you guys shut up already, Krista can’t sleep with all the noise.” You all go back to your beds, giggling as she stalks off, a warm feeling in your chest. 

Grateful for these precious friends.


	4. Turntables

Breakfast today, oatmeal. Not exactly your favorite, the texture is all wrong. You finish quickly, refusing to let the taste linger. But Sasha still isn’t done, having managed to find a couple more bowls to eat. You tell Mina to go ahead, and you drag Sasha to her feet, the cafeteria empty except for the two of you.

“Sasha, we’re going to be late!”

“Mrmph,” she answers, drinking as quickly as she can. When you remind her that being late could mean not getting dinner, she slams the bowl down, gone before you can blink. You sprint after her, catching up as you widen your stride.

You slam right into Sasha as you get to the door, only two seats left in the building. And of course, Sasha beat you to the seat next to Mina. You reluctantly make your way over to the other empty seat, between Marco...and Jean. You’re so focused on getting ready for the lecture, that you miss the glance they give each other over your head.

Before you can actually go outside and use the ODM gear, you need to take classes on maintenance and proper usage. You like the lectures, they fill your head with information where there is none. It makes you feel a little less empty.

Shadis finally walks in, kicking the lesson off immediately. You try writing down as quickly as he speaks, and it's difficult. It feels like a single second of distraction can set you back a whole topic. And you can’t afford to miss a topic, this information is what your life will depend on. 

You scribble notes onto your paper, your writing becoming less legible with every second, when a piece of paper slides in front of you from your left. Ignoring it, you continue writing. _I never should have told Jean anything._

Seconds later, another piece of paper slides into view, and you sweep it onto the floor, shooting Jean a dirty look from the corner of your eye. From your right, Marco stifles a laugh at the exchange. Just when you think you’re free from distraction, Jean nudges your elbow, messing up the words on the page. You put your pen down, discreetly moving closer to Marco. When you look back to your area, your pen is gone. Jean twirls it in his hands, refusing to meet your eyes despite the growing grin on his face. It takes every fiber of your being to contain your scream.

“Give it back,” you whisper heatedly, “Some of us actually care about this stuff.” You extend your hand, asking for mercy.

“Not until you tell me what you meant by not remembering anything,” he whispers back, looking ahead as he pretends to pay attention. You refuse to answer, knowing he’d never leave you alone if you told him more. Resigned, you look ahead, trying to commit as much to memory as possible. Jean gets tired of no response, and gives you back the pen. An olive branch.

You exhale heavily, and in your haste to get back to taking notes, you drop your pen. Bending to pick it up, you snap back up, but your journal is gone. You bang your fists on the table, annoyed, and forget where you are. The room goes quiet, and Shadis looks back from the front of the class.

“Cadet (L/n)!” he shouts, “If you’re not interested in this, you can go outside and run laps until the rest of the class is dismissed, or join the rest of the cowards as farmers.” With a burning face, you rise from your seat. Deep breaths rattle through your lungs as you make your way out the door.

What else can you do? You start running. Running until you stop feeling like you’re going to explode at any second. It feels like you’ve been running for hours when the cadets finally trickle out of the classroom. Everyone heads to the storage room, ready to don their ODM gear.

You’re fuming as you catch up to Mina. The great friend she is, she immediately starts doing her best to explain what you missed during your run. Sasha interrupts every couple of seconds with her own opinions on the lecture. You know she’s trying to help, but it’s more distracting than anything. With a tight smile, you focus on their words, acknowledging that you’re not retaining any of the information.

However, as soon as you walk through the doorway, their words are cut short as each of you is handed a box. Shiny metal glints in the afternoon light, as everyone follows the instructors’ directions when it comes to attaching the gear to your belts. Excited whispers fill the room.

“It’s kind of heavy.”

“Not as heavy as my emotional burden.”

“Damn, these things gave me the perfect hips to make some babies.”

You nearly choke at Connie’s comment, watching as he admires the heavy gear.

“Maybe now you’ll finally get married,” Sasha says thoughtfully, finger to her chin as she circles him. These two idiots never fail to make you laugh, which eases some of the anxiety surrounding your first time in the air.

Outside, everyone spreads out a couple of paces apart-to prevent any casualties. Taking a deep breath, you click the triggers, shooting the wires into the nearest tree. _I think my soul just left my body._ Your stomach seizes, and your food threatens to come back up as you fly weightlessly.

You’re free.

The sky rushes to meet you, as you swing through the forest, breath stolen by the wind. You tear your gaze away from the clouds, realizing you’ll have to land somewhere, and make the mistake of looking at the ground. _Holy shit, I am about to die._

You’re high enough off the ground that a wrong move will mess you up, and you didn’t remember what Shadis said about landing. Head spinning, you use your momentum to maneuver onto a large tree branch, retracting your wires as your feet slam into the wood. You cling to the trunk like a lifeline, not sure how to look down without the dizziness coming back. _Well, there goes my military career._

Your attention is drawn to the sound of wires whistling near you. Reluctantly, you strip your arms from the tree and cross your arms as someone lands next to you.

“Class didn’t prepare you for this?” Jean says, as he takes note of your terrified face.

“Shut up, I’m just catching my breath,” you answer, making a show out of taking a couple of deep breaths.

“Oh really,” he sees walking closer to you, as you keep your ground, “Then why haven’t you come down, yet?” It gets hard to breathe as his face fills your vision. Unable to form a sentence, you turn around, refusing to admit your weakness. Footsteps shake the branch as he starts walking away, turning back one last time to throw a piece of advice. “You know, it might help if you concentrate on a single tree at a time.” The sound of wires shooting forward alerts you to his exit, and you turn around, watching as he swings through the forest.

His movement is so effortless, so graceful. It’s like watching a bird fly. Jealousy burns beneath your skin, but even louder than that, respect. You squint ahead at the training grounds, everyone is starting to come back.

With a deep breath, you take his advice, finding it a lot easier to focus on the trees than the rapidly approaching ground. _This is actually kind of fun, now that I’m only worried about slamming into a tree. I just don’t know if I’ll ever get rid of the feeling that my stomach is in my throat._

So fun, in fact, that you forget how close the ground is. You land clumsily, skidding to a stop and falling face first in the dirt. Your hands smart, scraped up from your attempt to minimize the damage to the rest of your body.

A hand enters your peripheral vision, and you take it. “You should also consider bending your knees until you get the hang of landing, don’t want to break a leg,” Jean says, and you nod, embarrassed you’d made a fool of yourself.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You dust yourself off, watching as he jogs after Marco.

Maybe, he isn’t that bad. 

Maybe, just maybe he could be a friend.

————-

Of course, you spoke too soon. 

“I don’t think I heard you, was that a sneeze?” You fight the urge to punch Jean in his stupid face, regretting giving him your bread as thanks for the advice. _How is it possible for him to breathe, with his head so far up his own ass?_

Marco elbows him, followed by a slight cough as he catches Jean’s eyes, who in turn sighs heavily. “Ok, fine, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, did you sneeze, I don’t think I heard you?” you parroted, arms crossed now that you had the upper hand. Despite your snide remark, he repeats himself, looking, what a surprise, like he actually feels bad.

“I’m sorry for getting you kicked out of class.” His sincerity placated you, and Marco, who looks relieved this was all dealt with quickly. Of course, it's all erased as Jean makes a big show out of eating the bread roll you gifted him. 

“The bread was nothing. Literally. I hate bread, reminds me of working on the fields in the winter,” you say, a sickening smile crossing your face. You couldn’t let his head get any bigger, lest it blow up.

“Oh, that’s right,” Marco says with a fist to his chin, “You’re a refugee from Shinganshina, right (Y/n)?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” you’re slightly confused he knew, seeing as to how you’d never talked to Marco about your hometown. Jean. _They’re friends, of course he told him. But why?_

“You must have gone through a lot, seeing it all firsthand, I’m sure the majority of the people here haven’t even seen a titan before.”

“Well, then I guess I’m the majority. I don’t remember anything from before that day.” You take a deep breath, weighing the consequences of your next words. The wood grain of the table is suddenly very interesting. “Not my family, not my friends. It was all so...empty.. I saw my mother, dead on the ground, and I didn’t even know what she meant to me. She loved me, and I returned the favor by forgetting her?” _How dare I live in this blissful ignorance, throw away the value of her sacrifices, like nothing had happened?_ You don’t dare whisper this last thought, a shame that burns so brightly in your soul, it’s painful.

The room is loud, but the quiet at the table is uncomfortable, so you keep speaking to fill the void. It’s too late to stop speaking, not when you hadn’t aired these grievances even to yourself. “I feel like, like I don’t know what I am. Sometimes I wonder, how can I pledge loyalty to the military, my life to humanity, when I don’t even know what it is I’m signing away? How can I offer my heart, my life to a cause when it isn’t even mine to give?”

Your fingers trace the lines in the table, a continuous line, unbroken and unending, until it reaches the knot of wood, lost in the confusion of swirls. Your words catch up to you, suddenly feeling very self conscious of the thoughts of these two boys. “Well, I’ll leave you guys to eat, sorry for rambling on,” you laugh nervously, as you get up, not daring to look at their faces.

With a deep sigh, you take your seat across from Mina, who looks like she’s about to explode. “So, are you guys going out yet?,” she whispers excitedly as she looks at you closely.

“I-what?”

“Come on, (Y/n), he’s been looking at you every chance he can get,” she responds enthusiastically.

“Maybe because I threatened to kick his ass if he crossed me again,” you laughed, “It’s probably fear.”

“Ok, then what about Bertholdt?”

“What about him?” She looks over to where he’s sitting with Reiner, Eren, and a couple more people. You follow her gaze, and are surprised to make eye contact with Bertholdt, who immediately turns away. Reiner seems to notice this silent exchange and whispers something to him, but Bertholdt stares straight ahead, refusing to amuse him. _What the...?_

“He’s probably scared of me too,” you conclude, “and you will be too, Mina. Just you wait.” Making a scary face, you move towards her, threatening to steal her food.

“If you say so,” she answers, moving her plate away.

“Anyways, what about you, why do you spend your free time staring at people?,” you tease, with a mouthful of food. She starts eating, ignoring your question, even when you push on her shoulder.

“I’ll find out, just you wait, Mina.”


	5. Years to Build, Seconds to Break

Despite your obvious supremacy in hand to hand combat against Jean, you kept getting paired up with him. The result? He started to catch on to your technique, making it possible for him to suddenly block your attacks. He was getting better admittedly, but you still enjoyed being able to flip him when he got too smug.

“Keep trying, and one day when you grow up, you may be just as good as me,” you tease. That combination of words strikes a chord in your head, as another flash of memories sends you to your knees.

_An outstretched hand. Sore muscles. A smiling face rewarding your progress._

“What’s up, did my amazing fighting skills scare you?” Jean says, clearly teasing, but his voice has a tinge of worry laced in it.

“You wish,” you answer as you take his hand, getting up, “Come on, let’s go again.”

“Not until you tell me what that was all about.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, feigning ignorance, “Now, are we going to keep talking, or are you going to let me kick your ass again?”

“If I beat you,” Jean says, a spark of confidence in his eyes, “will you tell me what happened?” There’s no way in hell that’s going to happen, but you weren’t one to turn down a friendly competition. He may have started to get a hang of fighting, but you still had techniques you hadn’t used yet in your arsenal. You had this in the bag.

“Sounds like a deal,” you agree, hands raised as you prepare to charge at him. Running forward, you rush to grab his arms, but he ducks. He swings, trying to land a punch, but you block his fist as you form as x with your arms.

“What kind of underwear do you think Instructor Shadis wears?” Jean muses, as you continue fighting. You weren’t going to let him distract you.

“Giving up already, are we?”

He ignores you,“I mean, his attitude makes me think that they’re probably regular briefs, but who knows, maybe he’s really into thongs with tiny titans on them.” The idea of that makes your throat close up, eyes screaming as you start crying from the laugh you’re holding in, until it’s too much. You stop, clutching your stomach as a deep laugh comes out of your mouth, eyes closed tight.

Suddenly, you’re flying through the air, your own move used against you as your back slams into the ground, knocking what little wind you have left out of your lungs. Struggling to catch your breath, you remain on the floor, arms and legs spread out haphazardly.

“Looks like I won,” Jean says with a smirk, as he crouches next to you.

“Not. Fair,” you wheeze out.

“Ah, you see, you never said anything about fair.” Holding out his hands, you grab onto them as you pull yourself back up.

“Fine, but you need to promise not to tell anyone,” you say solemnly, “don’t want any more people flipping me around for my life story.” He nods, standing tentatively. “It’s pretty boring anyways, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With a big sigh, you explain how, despite losing your memory, some flashes of your life appear out of nowhere without your control, and the headaches that accompanied them, some so bad that you couldn’t keep your eyes open. You tell him about the memories of your mother, the details of her face that elude you, chased down by those burning emotions like a cheap whiskey. Not that you’d ever tried alcohol before.

Although hesitant at first, you even tell him about the locket, the only physical reminder you have of who you were. Since you weren’t using ODM gear today, you were able to wear it without being afraid of losing it.

Pulling it out from under your shirt, you dangle the chain, unclasping the two halves and handing it off to Jean, who starts inspecting the two pictures inside. “What happened to this one?” he asks, pointing to the half of the locket that held the picture of your mother.

“I don’t know, when I opened it, the picture was torn,” you sigh, looking over at your fellow cadets, who continued training, “It probably happened when the chaos started that day, but like I said, I don’t remember the beginning. This is the only reminder I have of how she looks, and it doesn’t even have her face.” You laugh bitterly, unamused by this joke from the goddess of fate.

You look back at Jean. He closes the locket carefully, handing it back to you. Moving to close the chain behind your neck, your fingers fumble, unable to see the clasp. Hands move over your own, taking the necklace and clasping it for you. Jean’s fingers whisper over the skin on the back of your neck, as your hair stands on end.

“Thanks,” you say, turning around to face him again. You can’t decipher the emotion on his face, and you don’t have the time to, as the instructor starts heading over to your side of the training grounds. 

Quickly spinning around, you grasp his bicep, flipping him to distract the others from your lack of training. 

“Told you, you got lucky.”

\---——-

Despite telling him about your memories to get him off your back, Jean continued to bug you. That is, until he didn’t. You weren’t quite sure when his presence stopped being annoying and instead became something you looked forward to. But as time went on, you recognized that his arrogance was a front, a mechanism for his own insecurities much like your own at times.

Now, whenever you took a break from training to ride the wave of pain from another intrusive memory, he would be there, bad joke in one hand, and water in another. Standing beside you as he offered his own ears to your recurring memories. The whole situation started to feel like a puzzle that only the two of you could solve. Still, you didn’t want to distract him from his own training, and began trying to hide the pain behind tight smiles, or pretending you’d been injured, but it was no use. He’d grown so finely tuned to your expressions, that even the slightest grimace would catch his attention.

In seconds flat, he’d be by your side every time, asking “What’d you remember this time?” And every time you told him. 

You fool, you told him. 

You were scared of getting too close, too scared to trust so completely. Even Mina, as much as you loved her, didn’t know as much as you told him. But Jean, he was safe. He was so infatuated with Mikasa, you knew he wouldn’t return this closeness. He couldn’t, when his eyes still followed her through the room as soon as she entered.

And that was okay. 

You were used to this, no, you expected this. 

You needed this.

But as is with any sort of friendship, you had to wonder, what was his life like to be so interested in yours? You’d already heard about your friends’ family traditions, and were curious to learn about everyone else's if you didn’t know your own. 

“You know what, it’s not fair to you to have to listen to me drone on and on about my life. You’ve heard so much about me, and I think it’s my turn to hear about you.”

“Like what,” Jean answers, drinking a glass of water after another one of your lessons in hand to hand combat.

“Something easy to start with. Like, uh, I don’t know...your favorite food?”

He flashes a grin, before responding, “Omelettes.” You sit silently, waiting for him to continue, even waving your hand impatiently. 

“Come on, Jean,” you complain, “you have to give me more than that. Clearly you have some sort of memory that matters to you. Why omelettes, why not..I don’t know…steamed carrots?”

“Steamed carrots, really? What kind of childhood did you have?” Laughing at your deadpan expression, he gives in, “My mom used to make them for me when I was a kid. For some reason, they made me happy, and she kept making them.”

“How is she doing these days? I haven’t seen her since she used to bring you meals a while ago.”

“She’s written to me a couple of times, but Sasha and Jean always make fun of me for it. She’s always ‘Jean boy this’ and ‘Jean boy that’. You know how mothers are.” He stops his anecdote when he remembers that you wouldn’t know. “Shit, uh…”

“Don’t worry, it’s ok,” you answer. Shadis shouts across the training grounds, calling you all back to dinner. “You should write back, she probably worries about you.”

Dusting off your pants from the dust, you head out to join your friends for food, before turning back one last time. “Besides, I think the name is cute.” His eyes widen, surprised by your statement. “See you later, Jean boy.” You take off, running to avoid Jean as he chases after you.

“Hey, come back!”

———-

You slam back down into the ground, a gasp of air escaping your mouth. “You know, Bertholdt,” you state, dusting your hands off quickly, “I’m not going to get any better if you keep refusing to challenge me. I’ve seen you fight before, so I can tell when you’re holding back.”

Deciding to shake things up for the class, the instructors had started pairing people up according to their skills. So, here you were fighting Bertholdt. It would be a lot easier to focus if Mina’s words from a while ago didn’t keep coming back. It also didn’t help that he refused to make eye contact with you throughout the exercise.

Perhaps feeling eased by your words, to his credit Bertholdt starts getting more aggressive with his attacks, and you respond accordingly. Despite putting up as much of a fight as physically possible, he sees through your weaknesses, and you tumble to the ground once again. You open your eyes, a throbbing pain in the back of your head. He’s fast, really fast. _He could probably cover more ground walking than I could jogging, he’s just that fucking tall._

From your seat in the dirt, a shadow covers your head from the blistering sun. “Good fight,” he says, holding a hand out. You take it, pulling yourself up to your feet while hiding your burning cheeks. It was one of the only times you’d made eye contact with him, and for some reason, you felt nervous.

“Yeah, you’re good. I’ll keep training to get stronger, so don’t get too comfortable,” you laugh, showing him there aren’t any hard feelings. Or any feelings at all. He responds with an awkward smile, and you walk away, leaning against one of the trees as you pinch a finger to the bridge of your nose. You must have hit your head hard in that last part, evident by the headache that feels like it’s splitting your skull in two. Opening your eyes, you make out someone else approaching you from the other side of the training grounds.

“Is Marco done rocking your shit?” you call out, taking note of all the dust on his pants. His messy hair.

“Looks like you met your match, you’re just as dirty as I am,” Jean teases, deflecting from your comment as he walks up to you. _Everyone probably saw me eat shit, but it's ok. Just means I’m getting better._

“Yeah, well don’t look so happy about it,” you mutter, eyes closing tight as your head continues pounding.

“That bad, huh?” He says, “A memory or just a bad fall?”

“Now I know how _you_ must feel, being thrown around like that,” you laugh, as you shake off the remaining pain. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing. Let’s get going, I’ll probably feel better once I drink some water. Anyways, it looks like Shadis is finally going to let us use the swords, probably isn’t scared we’ll impale ourselves anymore.”

————-

The night was starting to descend like a blanket on the grounds, as you bounce on your toes. Everyone has been separated into teams of four, to take on the various titan dummies scattered through the woods. By some stroke of luck, you’d managed to get Mina and Sasha on your team, along with Connie. Despite his reputation for comedy, he knew how to turn serious when necessary, like right now.

At the sound of the flare, everyone dives into the forest. You keep your team members in your peripherals, darting your eyes forward to scour the dark for moving titans.

“This way, guys!” Sasha whispers loudly, as she zips to the right. A dummy turns around on its platform, as Sasha and Connie slice it’s calves, and Mina takes the finishing blow.

“How did you even see that?,” you ask, swinging from the tree branches.

“I didn’t,” Sasha grins, “You can hear the platforms if you’re really paying attention.” Focusing on the sounds of the woods, all you can hear are wires as the wind whistles in response.

“What are you, some kind of rabbit,” Connie grumbles, “I can’t hear anything.” Mina and you laugh as Sasha holds her hands to her head, mimicking their ears. 

“Look, another one,” Mina says, and you all follow her. This time you swoop in and take the final slice to the nape. You’d begged to spend more time with the gear, and Shadis had complied. Wanting to learn more, you’d even asked Mikasa for tips, and she’d provided, embarrassed when you admitted how much you admired her skills. The hours you’d spent training taught you that by diving you cut the air resistance from your descent, allowing you to approach the target more quickly than the rest of your teammates.

Everyone continued deeper into the forest, the moon illuminating everyone in its silver rays as you took turns calling out dummies and slicing them apart. The adrenaline kept you going, further and further.

“(Y/n)!” You come to a stop, as Mina calls out your name.

“Another one?” You ask, panting, but she shakes your head looking at you with furrowed brows. Connie hangs upside down, as if he’d been waiting for Mina to catch your attention.

“It’s time to go back,” Sasha says, and you look around. Everyone else is gone. _How long has it been?_

“Sorry, guys, I got distracted,” you apologized, following closely behind your squad.

“Tell me about it, if Sasha’s a rabbit, you’re like a hawk or something,” Connie calls out, “Seriously, you were kind of scary, just diving around like that.”

“What does that make you then?” you answer, laughing at Connie’s expression.

“Lucky I’m on this team, I guess. I’d hate to be a titan when we all pull up.” The team keeps up the conversation, laughing all the way through the storage room and into the cafeteria.

“What are you clowns all laughing at,” Ymir asks, as you sit down at the table, waving at Connie as he heads to sit with his friends.

“I could really use a joke right now, that was tough,” Krista says, smiling wearily.

“It’s (Y/n),” Sasha answers, “Did you see how she was moving around today?” She breaks into an exaggerated description of your technique, much to your embarrassment.

“It wasn’t like that,” you mumble, wishing the ground would open and swallow you up.  
“I would blink and you’d disappear, like a ghost,” Sasha replies, shivering, “Oooooooh” she says waving her arms around.

“You need to learn to take a break, too,” Mina says, a little worried. But you can’t, you need to be the best you can. How else can you even think about taking back Wall Maria? Of being useful?

“I’ll take a break when I’m dead,” you answer decidedly.

“Which won’t happen anytime soon if you’ve seen her training,” Sasha laughs, making the mood light again.

————-

“Mina, look at me, guess who?” Sasha shouts, jumping off the top bunk as she screeches.

“Oooh, that’s a tough one,” Mina answers, finger pressed to her chin thoughtfully before they both start laughing.

“Shut up,” you groan, tossing a pillow at both of them. Instead, Sasha takes a sheet from the extra bed, covering herself as she walks around blindly. “If you don’t go to sleep now, the only ghost you’re going to see is your own in the mirror when I kill you both,” you laugh, turning to the wall.

The bed creaks as Sasha bolts up to her bed, taking your threats to heart. “Let’s go to sleep, Mina, I don’t want her to flip me all the way to Wall Sina.”

“Speaking of flipping,” Mina says, as she hands you your pillow, “I’ve seen that you’re a little more trigger-happy with some of our cadets than others.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, pretending to snore.

“Oh really,” she teases, “I’m sure Jean would beg to differ. Is this how people in Shiganshina flirt? It seems to be how Mikasa does it with Eren.”

“It’s not flirting!” you answer, “It’s not my fault he has so many blind spots, but he’s getting better, I think.” She sits on the edge of your bed, tearing the pillow away from your face.

“I’m your friend, (Y/n), you can trust me. Are you sure you don’t like Jean?”

“For the last time, Mina,” you groan, turning away from her, holding the pillow to your ears. “He’s just a friend, trust me.”

“That’s not what it looks like to me,” she answers, swinging her legs thoughtfully.

“Or me!” Sasha calls out from her bed. You playfully jab at the bed above you, as she laughs.

“Don’t make me come up there. Besides, Mina, like you said, you’re my friend, would I ever lie to you,” you say, “besides, he likes Mikasa. Didn’t you see how red his face was when he first saw her, he looked like a tomato.”

“Like this?” Sasha asks, her face swinging down from above as she puffs her cheeks, her face growing red from the exertion.

“Exactly like that!”

Laughter fills the room. Eventually, Mina gets up to turn off the lamp. You don’t want to think what Ymir would do to you if she was woken up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure if it’s obvious, but I love Mina. Anyways, thanks for reading!


	6. Analysis of the Self

As the weather starts to get colder, you find it harder to pry your frozen fingers off of the blankets to go train. “W-w-why can’t t-t-taxes g-g-go to bet-t-ter b-b-blankets,” you ask one morning, teeth chattering from the icy floors as you step out of your bed barefoot.

“That’s why I started wearing my uniform under my pajamas,” Sasha answers, “more layers means less cold.”

“Some of us like putting our clothes to clean at the end of the day,” Mina calls out, and you agree, nodding your head violently in the freezing air. _But, maybe Sasha has a point._ Your pants and shirt are cold from being left out, while hers are probably warm from being slept in. No, you can’t let her win. Jamming your feet into your stiff boots, you follow the horde of shivering cadets to the dining hall.

“They finally turned on the fireplace,” Mina says happily. _It’s about time, why are they so stingy when it comes to keeping us alive?_ Breakfast is as cold as it is outside, and you only manage a couple of bites, before pushing it toward Sasha. 

“If I eat any more, my heart might freeze,” you tell her, as she cleans off your plate. The windows outside show flurries of snow beginning to descend from the sky, which means there’s no ODM training for the third week in a row. Too dangerous. The past couple of days were focused on assembly and maintenance of the gears, which meant your set stayed in it’s box, polished and waiting eagerly for the day it would see the sun again.

The routine of indoor classes was becoming monotonous, as quizzes after quizzes made it easier to shoot out answers rapid-fire to the names of the different parts. At the beginning, you’d even liked the scenario exams, it was fulfilling to know what gear contributed to which malfunction, or putting a broken fan back together. But by now, you were bored. You missed going outside, and getting real world experience. You missed getting more memories.

But this day, breakfast was cut short as Shadis’ door opened, his boots pounding into the loud room. “Cadets! Today, we’ll be going on our first hike in difficult conditions. Get ready, we leave at noon!”

Excited murmurs bounced around the room, as instructors walked around, handing thick parkas to everyone, along with thick fur-lined gloves. 

“I knew they were holding out on us,” you cheer excitedly, stuffing your hands into this gift. Once resources were spread out, everyone was led out to the storage room, where everyone chose what materials to take, from a variety of lanterns, packs, and more.

“Take what you need,” one of the instructors called out, “You don’t know how bad it can get, but you also don’t want to be weighed down.” Ready to go, you head back quickly to the dorms, grabbing a scarf to cover your face. With the way the snow was falling down, there was no doubt this would transform into a full-blown blizzard. But, that didn’t matter. Anything to get rid of this cabin fever.

\----—

Ok, maybe not anything. Not even ten minutes into the hike, the snow started pouring down a lot more quickly, limiting visibility and your mood at the same time. Everyone trudged forward, pushing against the wind as it forced everyone back. As it got darker, the cadets split up into groups, those with more resistance leading the pack.

It was cold, but you had wrapped your scarf along your face, your eyes the only part of your head exposed to the bitter cold. Your solution had its disadvantages. Every breath you took froze in the air, making it difficult to breath, and requiring rubbing off the icicles left behind on the fabric.

You hated the cold, it sucked the life from your disposition. You weren’t doing as bad as some, but could be better. Mina had gone on with the rest, determined to stay behind, but you pushed her forward. “I’ll be okay,” you said, voice muffled by the wind.

Looking back, you realized a couple of people were missing. You turned back, hesitating for a second, but ultimately deciding to figure out what went wrong. Daz had been the first cadet to fall. His disposition made it difficult for him to keep up with everyone else, and it seemed he only grew further away as the group went on. Krista had stayed back to help him move through, but eventually, he couldn’t move anymore, his limbs frozen as he began to succumb to hypothermia. She had made a makeshift cot, dragging him along in the snowstorm, but not making enough progress.

You couldn’t blame Daz, you could see the appeal in lying down and letting nature do its worst. You wanted to stay and help pull him, but going any slower would mean you too would suffer the same fate, and you couldn’t afford that.

Moving alongside Daz, you leaned down, refusing to make Krista stop when she was already having a difficult time. You peeled off your gloves, immediately feeling the biting cold on your palms as you pulled them over his own. Then, reluctantly, you peeled off the scarf from your face, wrapping it loosely around his face, enough for him to breathe, but also remain warm. Exposed to the cold, you moved ahead, walking beside Krista.

“We can take turns, if you want,” you offer loudly, to be heard over the howling wind. She shakes her head, smiling weakly.

“It’s okay, (Y/n), I can do it,” she answers. She probably can, but she’ll never make it back to the cabin in this cold. Before you can offer again, a hand claps down on your shoulder.

“Shouldn’t you be flirting with Jean or something?” Ymir says, as she looks at you through narrowed eyes.

“That’s not what it is!” you shout again. Why can’t you help someone learn to defend themselves without it being seen as something else.

“Ymir!” Krista calls out.

“We’ve got this, you go on ahead,” Ymir says, nodding her head forward. So that’s what it is. She just wants to be alone with Krista, huh. Nodding, you give her your lantern, it could be a while before they make it back.

You didn’t want to leave them, but you were no use to anyone if you were dead. Fighting the lethargic feeling in your legs, you trudged through the snow, forcing yourself to move faster. Keeping a steady pace, you saw a glow in the blizzard, using it as a checkpoint. Your face was getting colder, eyelashes coated with snow, and you buried it deeper into your hood, shoving your hands into your pocket. They were lined with ice, but at least not as chilly as the outside air. 

Finally, you get close enough to the light that you can see the two figures carrying it. “Reiner, Bertholdt? I thought you guys were further ahead?”

“We saw you guys were struggling and fell back, didn’t want anyone to get lost out here,” Reiner answers, his voice muffled by the wind. Beside him, Bertholdt nods, as they both look ahead. If you had any blood left unfrozen, it probably would have rushed to your face. _Damn it, Mina!_ Ever since she had brought up the thing about Bertholdt, you couldn’t be around him without wondering if it was possible he liked you that way. Instead of entertaining the possibility, you shoved the thoughts to the back of your head.

The three of you continue walking in silence, starting the descent down the hill as the lights from the cabin shine down below. The wind starts picking up, making it harder for you to hear anything. _Did Reiner say something?_ Probably asking about Krista.

“Ymir’s with her, and I gave them my lantern, just in case,” you yell back, hoping you were heard over the noise. If he answers, you can’t hear it. _Why does the cabin not get any closer?_ At one point, you consider rolling down the decline, it would be faster, even if you did become a snowball. Deciding not to make yourself look like a clown, you continue your descent, and after what feels like an eternity, you finally make it to the gates. A solitary figure stands outside, their jacket illuminated by the warm glow from the windows.

As your group gets closer, the lanterns cast pools of light as their feet, catching the attention of the person, as they turn around. Jean? Reiner and Bertholdt head inside, a quick nod as they hurry to the warmth of the building.

“What took you so long?”

“I was trying to stay back with Krista, Ymir, and Daz,” you say, but the words come out all wrong, tripping over each other. Your face feels numb, mouth refusing to move at the regular pace. Pulling your hands out of your pockets, you glance quickly, realizing your fingertips are slightly discolored. Jamming them back in, you yawn, cold air stinging your lungs. You’re tired. So very tired. 

“Hey, (Y/n) wake up!” You open your eyes, startled as Jean shakes your shoulders. “You’re freezing, let’s get you inside, and don’t go to sleep!”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you say jokingly, although it probably came out sounding like nonsense. You cross the threshold, feeling on the verge of collapse. And then, warmth. 

Your left hand is gloved again, and the inside is heated, no doubt left by the fireplace to warm. “I brought extra gloves, I had a feeling you’d do something stupid and would need them,” Jean says, as he finishes putting a glove on your right hand. You immediately hold them to your face, grateful for the sudden increase in temperature.

“Thanks, Jean,” you say through the fabric, “I gave mine to-Daz! They’re still out there!” Turning on your heel, you move to the door, intent on going back out for them. You’re not alone, a crowd of your friends is outside. In the middle of the group is Krista, who watches as Ymir drags Daz inside.

“(Y/N)!” Mina shouts, realizing you’re back. You hug her tightly, taking advantage of how warm she is from being inside. Everyone laughs, the tension lifted now that everyone is back safe, as they all head inside to the warm room. Sasha takes your backpack off of your shoulders, putting it away in the girls’ room, as you all sit around the fireplace, melting the cold of the outside off of your skin. A sharp pang in your head brings another memory.

_A fireplace like this one. If it’s on, why is it so cold?_

Chills run down your spine, a single phrase echoing in your head. _You weren’t good enough._ The sounds are overwhelming, clogging your brain and you make your way to a secluded corner, processing what you’ve just seen.

“You remembered something.” Jean says, leaning against the wall. You hadn’t even noticed him following you.

“Not enough,” you admit, “Just, being cold, but not like the weather. Cold, like disappointment? Does that even make sense?” You pinch the bridge of your nose, unable to articulate the atmosphere from the memory. _Why can’t I remember more? Who was I not enough for?_

A hand ruffles your hair, and you look up, snapped out of your thoughts. “You’re getting closer, right? Don’t beat yourself up about it, I’ll help you through it.”

He’s right, you can feel yourself getting closer to your truth. You just need to get back to your house again.

“Thank you for being my friend, Jean,” you answer, offering up a smile.

“No problem. But you better stop jeopardizing yourself if you want to get a higher ranking than me.”

“Yeah, well you better stop relying on your ODM scores if you want to beat me,” you tease, before heading back out with the others. 

It’s not long before everyone is heading back to their rooms, exhausted from the hike and the cold. As everyone crawls into their beds, you take your pack off your own, peeling back the two blankets, as you make your way in.

“You’re lucky, (Y/n), I only got one blanket.” Mina says enviously, as she gets ready to sleep, “I should have looked for that bed if I’d known some had more than others.”

“That’s weird,” Sasha says from the bed beside you, “I’m pretty sure there was only one when I put your bag down. Maybe I just didn’t notice.” Whether she didn’t notice or not, you were grateful for this surprise. 

You hated the cold, and thankfully, you’d be warm tonight.


	7. Drunk Words

The more months you spent training, the more you were convinced that Shadis may just be a sadist. Why else would he suggest a hike in the afternoon rain after spending the day cutting wires during vertical maneuvering training? It had been a difficult day of training for most, with the stress of a sudden lack of support from one of your anchors, but luckily endurance seemed to be your strong suit.

A hike through the rain was one of the easier exercises you’d been put through, at least on a regular day. The act was almost...nostalgic, as your muscles responded to the slippery terrain and corrected any imbalances. _One, two, one, two_ you counted as you stepped through the puddles.

The weight on your back had gotten increasingly heavier with each hike the cadets endured. Along with supplies, the instructors had started putting weights in your bags, increasing in quantity and mass as the years went on. There was no doubt that the pack you carried was at least three times your weight, a necessary trial if you were meant to withstand the g’s you were put through by vertical maneuvering. 

You made a point to run near the beginning of the group, experience had taught you that the further behind you were, the more uneven the terrain became, making it more likely to twist an ankle in the sinking footprints. Tree after tree whipped past you as you continued on, a difficult run to the campgrounds that was rewarded with a few minutes of rest, Shadis standing by on his horse to take note of which cadets fell on the floor with exhaustion, and which needed to support themselves on tree trunks.

“Let’s head back!” He shouts, met with silent groans as everyone shakes off the water pooling on top of their bags, before filing in an irregular line to begin the difficult way back. Night started to fall, the only light illuminating the path belonging to the instructors’ lanterns as they moved alongside the group, the dark mimicking the less than ideal conditions cadets may face on the battlefield. 

Luckily, the rain trickles to a sprinkle before stopping completely, as the forest gives way to a clearing, the training grounds welcoming everyone back. The lights in the cabins shine brightly, beacons in the middle of the night as the cadets begin trickling in from the hike back. Everyone heads to the storage room, unloading their bags as more instructors record arrival times. 

As strenuous as it was, training did come with it’s advantages. Being so focused on perfecting your form, your endurance, and not crashing into random branches, helped with the gaping hole in your life. There’s no room for missing memories on the battlefield, which you were grateful for. After setting your cape to dry with the rest of the groups’ you start heading in.

You lagged behind the other girls, who were heading to the showers, too tired for regular conversation, but before you could go any further, a flash of light caught your eye. _I must be hallucinating already_ , you thought, _I knew I shouldn’t have given Sasha my breakfast, today,_ rubbing your eyes viciously. But a couple steps more, and you saw another flash. 

A shooting star.

Your excitement greatly outweighed your exhaustion as you watched the last cadets walk into the cabins. _That’s a problem for future me_ , you thought in between your yawns, as you searched for a place to watch. It was late enough at night that being out for a couple more minutes would be breaking curfew, which meant you’d have to hide.

A mountain of crates, and a barrel were leaning against the girls’ dorm, just begging to become a ladder. Quietly, and as quickly as possible, you stacked them precariously, testing they would hold your weight, before jumping up and grabbing the edge of the roof, pulling yourself up. _Sometimes I amaze myself._

Proud that you managed not to break your head, you walk across the slick tiles silently, catching yourself several times as your boots slipped down. After making your way to the middle of the roof, you take a seat, cross-legged as the rough ceramic digs into your back. A sacrifice you were willing to make. Gazing intently at the night sky, you sat, willing it to flash again. _Come on, I know there’s a couple more stars left._ Nothing happens. Unable to accept defeat, you lie down with a deep sigh, ready to wait as long as necessary.

“Cadet L/n!”

Your veins are pumped full of adrenaline, as shocking as ice water. You stand at attention, terrified. You’d stood up so quickly, you almost fell back, but catch yourself, before realizing who the voice belonged to.

“What the _fuck_ , Jean!” you whisper, the fear of getting caught much greater than your anger.

“Are you some sort of machine? I swear even MIkasa was dragging her feet after training today,” he says, nonchalant. 

“Of course _you’d_ notice,” you answer bitterly, still pissed he’s scared you. You take a seat once again, refusing to look at his face. _He’s lucky I’m tired or I would have punched his sorry ass._

“What are you even doing up here?” he asks, sitting down beside you. 

“I was on a mission looking for idiots, but I guess I already found one,” you answer in a serious tone, brushing off your pants as you get up. _Five, four, three, two._ The implication sets in.

“Hey!” Jean says, reaching up to grab your sleeve and pulling you down roughly onto the tiles next to him. You laugh quietly. Annoyed, he shoots back,“Yeah, I’d laugh too, if I wasn’t so tired. But seriously, why are you on the roof instead of sleeping like the rest of us humans?”

“Well, if you _must_ know, I saw a shooting star,” you answer, looking up at the sky again. It remained as quiet as before. At this rate, Jean would probably think you’d imagined it. You needed to prove him wrong.

“Really? _That’s_ what you’re here for? Can’t you do that tomorrow?”

“You can either shut up and look for them wi-” A sharp pain in your left temple cuts you off, and you jerk forward, eyes tightly closed as images flash behind your eyelids.

_A night sky. A hand pointing at the stars. Her familiar smile._

“(Y/n)? What’s going on?”

“Shh,” you answer, as you grasp at the fragments of a memory. Just as quickly as it arrived, it disappears. You curl into yourself, looking for answers, but your mind stays as silent as your environment.

“I think,” you whisper, looking up to the sky again, “I think this is something I used to do with my mom.” You talk about what you just saw, her smile, her laughing eyes, as Jean listens, uncharacteristically quiet.

“I guess it's a good thing you came out here, then,” he answers, shooting a grin before turning to look ahead. You hum in response, giddy that you’ve received another piece of the puzzle. You’d come so far from the day the titans invaded, even if the progress wasn’t evident from day to day. You cross your hands over your stomach, as you settle in again. _Was this something we did a lot? Did we talk about the stars, make up stories, or just take them as they were?_

For some reason, being awake so late makes your mind more vulnerable. Blame it on exhaustion, or eagerness to share your thoughts, but you start speaking. Words tumbling out from your mouth like an open dam.

“I wonder what my something big is,” you state, words hanging in the sky.

“Your what?” Jean asks, laughing at the odd choice of words.

“Shut up. You know what I mean,” you shoot back, “Like a dream, something that...I don’t know, lit up my life, you know? Like a shooting star. Something that makes you think ‘hey, maybe this world isn’t so bad?’ Like for Eren, it’s his plan to free humanity, for you it’s living in the interior, and for me it’s getting my memories back.”

“Hmm,” he hums. You sneak a glance at him, his head resting on his folded arms.

“But I mean, it couldn’t have always been that, right? I mean, I had to have been someone else with motivations or a dream before I forgot it all. I had to have had something that kept me going in this shitty situation,” you continue, sighing, “I guess I just have to find it again.”

Realizing how much you’ve said, this midnight admission, you try to take it back, “Sorry for rambling, you can ignore what I said, I’m probably just tired.”

“No, it’s okay. I-I get it,” he answers.

“Cool, that’s...good, then.”

You both fall in comfortable silence, spending the next hour looking intently at the sky, determined to find a shooting star. But no matter how hard you look, the sky remains the same. It’s as if it had heard you climb onto the roof and defiantly refused to show its secrets. _That’s kind of stingy. I’m just asking for one, please? Just give me a single shining star, one dream, and I’ll stop complaining. Promise._ The universe remains silent, the sky an endless bowl of darkness, littered with sprinkles of light. 

Eventually, even Jean gets tired, and he gets up. “I’m going to bed, otherwise I might fall asleep and roll off to my death,” he mutters, the tiles shifting under his boots as he stifles a yawn.

“Mhm, I’ll let you know if I see anything,” you say. You keep looking, when suddenly, a piece of fabric smacks your face. You get up, startled. Jean’s jacket.

“It’s cold out. Put it on, or you’ll get sick,” he says, facing away from you.

“I already have mine Jean, but thank you,” you answer, tossing it at his back. He turns around, picking it up and throwing it harder. 

“Two jackets is better than one,” he says, refusing to admit he’d forgotten you had a jacket on already.

“Yeah, and one is better than none, so take it,” you shoot back, “You’ll get sick.” You throw it back harder than he did, and he doesn’t answer, just flings it back to you. Except he threw it too fast, and too high. The jacket smacks your face, the momentum knocking you off balance. You step back, trying to get footing, but step on the edge of the wet tiles, feet slipping off into the empty air.

You feel yourself start to fall, arms pinwheeling blindly. Fear strikes your heart, _I don’t want to die._ You’re jerked upright by the arms, pulled away from the edge. The jacket falls off your face, and you’re left staring directly into Jean’s eyes, reflecting the night sky. And in them, you finally see it. 

A shooting star.

But Jean doesn’t see it.

All he’s looking at...is you.

Your breath catches in your throat, as you move suddenly, shoving the jacket into his chest, sending him flying back into the roof. “You know what, you are right, it’s getting late, and I’m so tired. Very tired. Good night,” you say quickly, practically jumping off the roof as you speed inside.

You open the door slowly, and avoid the creaky floorboards as you tiptoe back to your room. Luckily, everyone else is already asleep, and you dive straight into your bed, grateful for the bottom bunk once again. You don’t bother to shower, or change, or even remove your boots. You grasp the blanket, dragging it over your head, trying to combat the heat in your face with the cold sheets.

Why did you have to stay out?

He was supposed to be safe. Predictable.

You groan and roll over, trying to shake his eyes from your mind. His beautiful eyes.

“I am in deep deep shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we arrive to the scene that got me started on this whole story. Anyways, it's one of my favorites, and I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
